


Interrogation (GuerreroxReader)

by Cataraction



Category: Human Target (TV 2010)
Genre: F/M, Fingerfucking, Interrogation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-03
Updated: 2017-03-03
Packaged: 2018-09-28 01:16:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10061363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cataraction/pseuds/Cataraction
Summary: I found a disturbing lack of Readerx fics in the Human target fandom. I intend to help that out a bit! Based on the scene from Ep1/S2 where Guerrero is interrogating Ames. Instead, they somehow got YOU.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for a female reader but if people are interested in one with a male reader, lemme know.

Darkness. It’s all you had at this moment as you float in nothingness. When consciousness finally came to you, you wished you had stayed out for longer. A blinding pain in the back of your head throbbed through your skull and made you moan in pain. You vision was blurry for a good long time, the throbbing in the back of your skull not helping in the least. However, you finally managed to regain most of your sight and you groggily peered around, gaining your bearings. The walls were concrete, along with the floors. Although you couldn’t see very well around you, you could tell you were in someplace large and with minimal natural light. The car there made you think it was probably a garage, and a fairly large one at that. Before you, sat a cart with a closed tackle box on it and a chair next to it. The last thing you could remember was attending another one of Ilsa Pucci’s annual parties. You always went to document the goings on for your blog. There was gunfire and screaming and in the confusion you thought you’d been just knocked down. As you were quickly realizing, you were purposefully knocked out. You went to move your hand to scrub your eyes with the heel of your palm, but your hand was stopped. It felt like something was holding it down. Quickly, you glanced down to find yourself bound to a rather uncomfortable steel chair. Handcuffs held your limbs down to the chair and no amount of struggling seemed to budge either the cuffs or the chair. Panic set in quickly. You squirmed and tugged at all of your restraints, first wincing at the pain of the steel digging into your flesh, but then getting used to it. Adrenaline made you not notice the pain as easily, but also made you wreckless. In your panic, you never realized how much noise you were making, rattling about the cuffs and whimpering, yelling for help. It never dawned on you that whoever knocked you out and bound you here, would hear you and come running.  
The door opened with a surprisingly quiet click of the latch as someone walked in out of your view. You tried to whirl around and see them. They sauntered around the other side, coming to lean against the chair they had set up. You finally settled your gaze on them, meeting the face of your captor. The man was short, even from where you sat. He stirred his coffee slowly, disinterested in the fact you were in a panic. A thick, dark brown beard and moustache surrounded his lips, his cheeks nearly hollow and small, round spectacles sitting at the edge of his nose. Behind them were piercing blue eyes partially obscured by wavy blonde and brown hair that reached past his chin. From what you could see it made sense if he was the one who knocked you out. He wasn’t beefy but he definitely could hold his own; thin but strong. He took a sip of his coffee and set it down on the cart beside him. He plucked a ring out from his pocket and held it out before him. You sat in stunned silence until he spoke.  
“This ring was stolen off a woman who was kidnapped last night. Know anything about it?” He spoke with even intonation, his voice smooth as whisky. You swallowed the lump in your throat hard, your mouth going dry. Even if you were cuffed to a chair and more than likely were kidnapped by this man, you would admit in a heartbeat that he was very attractive.  
“I-I have no idea.” You spoke weakly past your cottonmouth.  
“Oh, I think you do. See we found this ring in your bag. Any idea how it got there?” he was smug above all else. You shook your head. Although your panic was now a dull throbbing in your skull adding to the pain that had also faded somewhat, you were still nervous. You had no idea what had happened last night and you hoped that telling him the truth would sate him and he’d let you go. Turns out, you were wrong. He opened the tackle box, fishing about before pulling out a bit of looped wire. He stood calmly, fiddling with it in his fingers.  
“You really don’t want to tell me how Ilsa Pucci’s ring got in your bag last night? Exactly how painful do you want this to get?” his questions were flat, barely any weight added to them. You chewed the words over in your head. You did notice a girl hanging around Ilsa quite a bit before booking it, running into you on the way out. She helped you pick up your bag and belongings before leaving. You didn’t like the idea of pain in the least.  
“Look, I think I know who actually stole the ring. Some girl, hanging around Ilsa last night.” You started to explain. He cocked his brow, not wanting to hear any of this but letting you speak anyway.  
“Long brown hair, backless dress? She ran into me and picked up my bag for me. Maybe she slipped it in then.” You tried as best you could, hoping he’d recognize a girl of that description. He chewed it over for a moment, turning to send a text to someone. He waited a moment and there was a soft buzz. He read over the reply on his phone and shoved it in his back pocket.  
“Turns out there was a girl of that description hanging around Ilsa last night.” as he said that, you relaxed. At least they knew who actually stole it. “Doesn’t mean you weren’t involved.” You tensed up again. He still thought this was partially your fault. You were no where close to being out of the forest yet. The scraping of the chair he had set up getting suddenly closer as he pulled it up and sat down quickly startled you. Your nerves were so high strung you were sure they’d break at any moment. He held the loop of wire before your face, letting you get a good look at it.  
“I’m going to give you a choice, because i believe in every human being’s right to being tortured Democratically. I can peel your fingernails off with this,” there was a short pause as you contemplated trying to run. Trying to get away. “Or I shoot you in the kneecaps.” You squirmed harder than before, whimpering and trying to get some sort of answer out. How could you convince him you had nothing to do with this? He stood quickly, the sound making you yelp again.  
“Fuck! Please I just- I don’t know I wasn’t-” your sentences came out choppy, weak and shaky as you started sob. You tried to keep yourself calm, lowering your head into your chest and attempting to curl into a ball in the chair you were cuffed to. You half expected to hear the cocking of a gun and the agonizing pain of him destroying your kneecaps with a single shot to each. Instead, you only heard the soft clink of metal hitting other metal. Your face was turned up to see his, his fingers holding your chin in a light grip. You caught his gaze and you were almost happy you were still hiccuping from your sobbing. Your breath caught in your chest as you got a chance to study the man’s face. Severe, with cheekbones so sharp they could cut someone and a strong jawline. Even in this time of extreme stress, you found him beautiful. You chalked it up to a mix of his legitimate good looks and Stockholm Syndrome. He let you go for a moment as he sent another text to whoever it was. He stayed back for a moment, giving you enough time to regain yourself slightly. Another soft buzz. A quick glance to his phone.  
“Fuck.” He whispered under his breath. He set the phone down for a moment, scrubbing his hands over his face. He let out a deep grumble, definitely annoyed by something. He seemed to be moving idly now, fingers tangling into his own hair and dragging down his face. With a final, short curse he peeled off the unbuttoned over shirt he had on, leaving him in a white tank top beneath. You let your eyes rake over his body, breath hitching again as you took in the sight before you. More from the stifling heat building up in this garage, small beads of sweat coated his torso. The tank top didn’t leave much to the imagination, barely covering each pec as they stuck out the sides. What it did cover, it clung to, outlining every muscle and curve. You blinked slowly, finally peeling your gaze away from his torso. You were thankful to find his eyes were not on you just yet. Letting his hands drop by his sides he let his gaze rest on you. A lot softer now, even though his expression hadn’t changed much at all. He approached quickly, kneeling down before you, a soft smile on his face.  
“So, my hunch about you was right. Guys topside found the thief we’re looking for by the description you gave.” His voice was quiet, a new intonation to it. “We had the wrong girl all along.” You nodded along, showing you were following, but only somewhat. You were hypnotized by his lips, watching them move and pronounce every syllable. You picked up on him saying he was sorry about all this or something to that effect. Before you could snap out of your dopey state, he unlocked the cuffs, freeing you. The clink of metal was what brought you back. You rubbed your wrists, squirming slightly as you got used to freedom once again. Your attention was quickly diverted as you realized this man was still kneeling before you. He held your chin again, keeping your gaze locked with his. Although he seemed to be checking your eyes for something, you were just staring. His skin slightly tanned and eyes such a bright blue against it could have melted you.  
“Anything I can do for you? It’s best you relax for a while before I take you home.” Only half listening you had to shake your head to get yourself to focus. He was asking what you wanted. At this point there was a lot of things you wanted but none of them decent. You liked the idea of him taking you home, but for all the wrong reasons. You managed to gather yourself enough to say something that wasn’t filthy.  
“Can...can I know your name?” You figured he wouldn’t say. He did just try to interrogate you and torture you. But it was worth a shot. You weren't expecting how easily he told you.  
“Of course. My name is Guerrero.” The name rolled effortlessly off his tongue. Guerrero. The name suited him so well and yet you were positive it wasn’t his given name. You couldn’t care less. You rolled the name over and over in your head, getting it to stick. He still had that soft smile on his face, no intent to harm in his voice or expression. You couldn’t stop yourself from staring and much to your chagrin, you let out a rather loud, dreamy sigh. You clamped your hand over your mouth quickly but it was too late. It was out there and he heard it. His eyebrow cocked as he watched your expression.  
“Look i uh- it’s nothing just-” You stammered hopelessly as you prayed he would brush it off, not ask you what it was and you could go home and think about him all you wanted. You let your gaze drop to try and take the pressure off your nerves and only saw his scantily clad torso. You felt your cheeks heating up more as you tried looking away completely. You were an absolute wreck. The soft smile on his face was replaced slowly by a wider grin. He set his arms on each of the armrests, effectively cornering you to that chair. You sunk lower but were stopped as your knees hit his thighs. Your eyes darted over him and found no way out. Guerrero got closer to you, eventually his lips brushed against your ear, sending shivers down your spine.  
“It’d only be fair to take some pressure off your nerves. It is, my fault after all.” his smug demeanor had returned tenfold as he whispered into your ear. So soft and smooth you could have drowned in his voice alone. He left gentle kisses along your jaw, trailing to your throat. You couldn’t stop another sigh escaping your lips. You felt his grin widen against your throat, those teeth threatening your skin. His hands dropped to your thighs, caressing up and down them, slipping up under the dress you wore. Your sighs were getting deeper, closer to a moan now as he pressed your dress higher up your thighs. He hummed against your throat, his hands traveling to the hem of your panties. You craned into his lips, your hands wrapping around his neck and tangling into that wavy hair. You held him close as your hips twitched. With his fingers dancing on the edge of your underwear you were whining for more, squirming. A chuckle shook his form as he finally started to peel your panties down.  
“So impatient.” he dragged his tongue over your throat, ending up at your cheek. He planted soft kisses over your cheek leading to your lips, all while his fingers grazed over your labia. His nose brushed against yours, lips so close you felt them touch your own. Your breath shuddered as he pressed barely harder, tracing your labia up to your clit and back down to your vagina. Soft, shuddering moans turned to whines, your hips bucking into him harder. The hand you had in his hair tightened its grip as your tried bracing yourself with the other. That grin returned to his face. You figured maybe he was still torturing you and in fact wanted more info from you. It’s the only reason he would be going so god awfully slow.  
“Tell me what you want.” Guerrero demanded, voice husky and low. The hot breath against your lips made you crazy.  
“Please, Guerrero. I want more, I want you.” You fought to keep yourself from whining too much, his fingers still teasing your labia. “Your fingers, your tongue, your cock I don’t care.” Your hips rocked against him as best they could, but anytime you’d get more pressure, he’d pull away again. You were desperate for more. Being teased so mercilessly should have been considered torture. It seemed to be enough though, as Guerrero hummed in his throat, leaning in to capture you in a hard, passionate kiss as he finally pressed his fingers into you. You gasped against his lips, so happy to finally have something in you. Although the stretch of his two fingers pressing into you was a bit tough at first, you got used to it quickly, moaning into his lips. You cradled his head, pulling him close to you as he sheathed those fingers inside you. He scissored and moved them, slipping them in and out a few times to get you used to it. He finally lodged them in you and let the heel of his palm rub against your clit as he rocked his fingers in and out of you. You could barely keep kissing him between your moans and cries. It felt phenomenal and between that, his passionate kisses that could swallow you whole and his other hand groping anything it could grab you were completely lost. No idea what you were saying or how loud you were. All that mattered was Guerrero. By the look on his face he was absolutely enjoying this. A wide, cat like grin that was only lost between kisses and a pretty obvious erection straining against his jeans. It was clear he was enjoying this almost as much as you were.  
As he noticed your moans getting needier and your hips thrusting more sporadically, he started curling his fingers as he pressed them in. The first time he did it, it left you seeing stars. You rocked against him harder, loving the pressure against your clit and how well just his fingers filled you. You managed to moan out several words and phrases, mostly ‘Oh God’ and ‘ I’m close’ over and over, the man’s name sprinkled throughout. Your hand dropped out of his hair, scraping nails down his back as your body started to tense. As he felt your nails down his back he let out a low growl in his throat, the teeth that had been grazing against your skin finally opening up and biting down onto your shoulder. You let out a cry as you came, the mix of his palm grinding against your clit, his fingers curling inside you and him biting you pushed you over the edge easily. Your hips continued to weakly buck against him as you came down from your orgasm, letting out satisfied sighs along the way. For the first time in a while, your mind was somewhat clear. The wetness of Guerrero lathing over the bite with his tongue got you first. He pulled away for a moment to slowly slip his fingers out of you. He held them up to his lips, spreading the fingers out and watching your juices drip and web between them. He placed them on his tongue, sucking them off and humming, holding your gaze the entire time. He pulled his fingers out with a slick pop.  
“Delicious.” He hummed with a grin. He let you lay for a while longer before collecting your panties and slipping them back onto you. He cupped your cheek and pulled you in for a softer, sweeter kiss. You finally got to savour those soft lips, like velvet amongst his facial hair. As he pulled away, he pulled you closer, wanting only to whisper to you.  
“If I drive you home, can we continue this there?” You knew exactly what he meant and you nodded, not entirely sure you could speak right now. The smile on your face said everything. Once your could gain your footing on your own, he led you to the Eldo, the only car in the garage at that moment. Tired, a bit sore and still very excited for what awaited you when you got this man home.


End file.
